


Rough guy

by DracoIgnis



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Begging, Breathplay, Consensual Sex, Cunnilingus, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub, F/M, Face-Fucking, Opposites Attract, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rimming, Rough Sex, Tattoos, Thicc Dany, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-17
Updated: 2020-07-17
Packaged: 2021-03-05 00:55:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,944
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25342048
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DracoIgnis/pseuds/DracoIgnis
Summary: After matching on Tinder, Jon meets up with wealthy London girl Daenerys in her flat in Knightsbridge. Tired of her perfect life, Daenerys is looking for an excuse to be out of control. Luckily, Jon likes taking charge.
Relationships: Jon Snow/Daenerys Targaryen
Comments: 87
Kudos: 348





	Rough guy

When she opens the door, Jon decides that Daenerys has the kind of body he would love to ravish; small shoulders, heavy breasts, plump ass and thick thighs. Her white silk dress seems flimsy. He wonders if he could rip it off with his teeth.

“Hello,” Daenerys says, lingering in the doorway as she watches him. Her coal black lashes have a dusting of glitter. When she blinks, it flickers through the air. “Are you Jon?”

“I am,” Jon says, “and I sure hope you’re Daenerys.”

“I am,” she replies. Her front teeth sink into her lower lip. She chews on it as she eyes him from the tips of his Dr Martens boots and tight jeans to the top of his curly black hair. She is blushing. Not from shyness, Jon thinks, but excitement. “Did you find the place okay?”

“I’ve never been to Knightsbridge. Too expensive for me,” Jon admits. “You didn’t mention that you’re rich.”

“I don’t want to attract the wrong kind of men.”

“Am I the right kind?”

Daenerys smiles a little and steps aside. “I suppose we’ll find out.” She gestures for him to enter, so he does.

The top floor apartment is bathed in the orange afternoon glow. Jon finds himself in a sea of white and creme furnishing, big glass windows, and pricey knick-knacks made of metal. He prods the golden figure of a bird as he glances around the open living space. “I feel like I’ve walked into a show-home,” he says.

“I like to keep it tidy,” Daenerys replies. “Would you like a drink?”

“Whatever you’ve got.” Jon watches her disappear into another room, and he walks to the windows, admiring the balcony outside. With its view over London’s pristine neighbourhood, the place is a far cry from his basement studio in Camden. He wonders how hard he has to fuck Daenerys to fog up the glass. He can’t wait to find out.

“Champagne,” Daenerys says as she returns with two flute glasses. The bubbly liquid reflects in her golden jewellery. “I hope you don’t mind. I had a bottle open already.”

“Of course you did,” Jon replies, but he accepts the drink and has a sip. The sparkling champagne tickles his tongue. The fragrance of oranges is too pleasant for his taste.

“You look just like your Tinder picture,” Daenerys says, her plump lips closing around the edge of her glass. When she cocks her head, her pearl earrings dangle in the air. “Most guys don’t.”

“A lot of women say I’m shorter than expected.”

“Does it matter? You look strong.”

“Like I could throw you around?” Jon asks, and he chuckles a little as Daenerys’ cheeks glow.

“I did text that, didn’t I?” Daenerys mutters and stares into her champagne.

Jon sighs and puts his glass aside on the marble mantelpiece. “Look, love,” he starts, and he reaches over and tips Daenerys’ head up by the chin. Her violet eyes are just visible between her thick lashes. She’s watching him shyly. “People talk a lot of shit online. If you don’t want to do this, I’ll get on the tube and be out of your life.”

“Don’t talk rubbish,” Daenerys says, and though her voice is quiet, Jon can see the determination on her face. Her hand closes around his wrist, and she leads his fingers from her chin to her cheek. As she leans into his touch, she presses a soft kiss to his palm. “Look around - don’t you think I get bored being cooped up in here? I need some excitement in my life. I need-” She pauses. The words seem to be on the tip of her tongue, but she either can’t or won’t speak them.

Jon’s thumb brushes across her soft cheek. “A rough guy?” he asks.

Daenerys swallows. She peers up into his eyes, and for a moment Jon thinks she’s going to turn him away. But then she says: “Do your worst,” and there’s no hesitation to her voice.

Jon smirks. He peels the glass free of her hands and puts it next to his own, cups her face in his palms, and then pulls her in for a kiss. His lips are hard. Hers are soft. He doesn’t wait for access, but gains it; as she gasps, his tongue darts into her mouth, licking up her scent.

Champagne, chewing gum, caviar. Daenerys tastes sweet and expensive. Jon swallows her moans as one of his hands drag down her face, across her wriggling body, beneath her short dress. He rubs his fingertips to the fabric of her knickers. They are wet with her juices.

“Oh fuck,” Daenerys moans and buckles into his hand. His teeth are at her mouth. He suckles and licks her lips puffy before letting her breathe. “Oh _fuck!_ ”

“What a dirty girl,” Jon growls. His fingers caress her cunt through the lace fabric. “You’re already soaked.”

“Don’t tease me,” Daenerys says, but her voice is barely a whisper. Her hands clutch onto Jon’s leather jacket as she rocks herself onto his palm, desperate for his fingers to sink below her knickers. “I want you to touch me.”

“You do, do you?” Jon says. His hand on her cheek pushes back into her hair. Her silver locks slip between his fingertips, and he twists them around his hand as he drags her head back. He kisses her exposed neck, bites his way across her pale skin to her blushing earlobe where he whispers: “Then you have to earn it.”

Daenerys whimpers. Her nails sink deeper into the leather. He can feel her tugging him closer to her as her body succumbs to his touches. As his thumb rounds the hood of her clit, she gasps: “ _Please._ ”

“Please what?” Jon asks. He has her right where he wants her; wet, wriggling, and willing. When he rubs her nub again, she lets go of another needy moan that sends shivers down his spine. “What was that?” he teases.

“Whatever you want,” Daenerys pants, and when she peers back at him, her violet eyes are dark with desire. “Whatever you want, Jon, just _please_ touch me.”

Jon presses a wet kiss to Daenerys’ lips before letting go of her hair. As he pulls back, she stumbles, her legs shivering below her. “Get on your knees,” Jon says, and he shrugs out of his leather jacket as he watches her carefully get down. Her tight dress makes it hard for her to move. He likes the way it digs into the flesh of her thighs when she sinks into the carpet. “I want you to suck my cock.”

Daenerys’ hands tremble slightly as she reaches for his belt. Jon licks his lips as she unzips his jeans and pulls his member free of his briefs. He is already half-hard and throbbing in her hands. When she drags his foreskin back and places a wet kiss on his cockhead, he groans in pleasure.

“Go on,” Jon says, “I haven’t got all day.”

Daenerys flushes, but she complies; with her small hands holding onto the base of his cock, she pops open her lips and wraps them around the head. Her mouth is warm and tight, and as her tongue starts dragging across his slit, Jon grabs onto the mantelpiece with one hand whilst placing the other against her cheek.

“Good girl,” Jon growls, brushing her cheek with his thumb, “good girl.”

The praise seems to spur her on. Daenerys starts bobbing her head up and down as she guides him further into her mouth, her wet tongue slickening his length. For a minute, the only sound in the room is from her lips - a wet, sloppy noise as she sucks and licks him hard.

By the time he’s throbbing and swollen between her stretched lips, Jon’s hand pushes from her cheek into her hair. He takes a hold of her silver locks once more as he starts jerking his hips forward to meet her sucking. His sudden movement earns a gurgled cough from Daenerys, and a string of spit rolls off her lower lip and onto the carpet. The sight makes Jon growl and demand: “Don’t stop,” and Daenerys gags around his cock as she continues to take him in deeper, guiding him to fuck the back of her small mouth

The sight alone could make Jon come; a beautiful stranger on her knees, her mouth stuffed with his member, her head trapped in his hand as he guides her. As he pushes deeper, she welcomes him, her struggled breathing vibrating across his length. She tries to gasp in air around his cock. Her eyes flutter open. Her hands grasp at his knees. She peers up at him, her tongue rolling to the underside of his cock as she tries to pry her lips further apart, and Jon hesitates for just a second longer before letting her go.

Daenerys sinks back onto her elbows as she pants. Her lips glisten as she swallows in air with greed, her cheeks pink and her tongue peeking out over her lower teeth. Her lipstick has smeared across her chin.

Jon licks his thumb and reaches down to rub it off. “Look at you,” he says, his voice husky, “you’re a mess.”

“Did I earn it?” Daenerys asks in a breathless voice.

“Come here.” Jon reaches down, and Daenerys extends her arms, waiting for him to pull her to her feet. But instead, his hands close at her small waist, and with a grunt he pulls her off the floor and throws her over his shoulder. Daenerys shrieks in surprise. Her legs kick in the air. Jon lands a smack on her jiggling buttocks.

“Oh my God,” Daenerys gasps, her hands grabbing onto any part of Jon that she can. He can feel her nails twist into the back of his tee. He hopes she leaves marks.

“Where’s the bedroom?” Jon asks.

“Oh my God,” Daenerys whispers again, steadying herself on his shoulder as she tries to gesture, “uhm, in there.” She nods toward a closed door in the back.

Jon grabs the flute of champagne off the mantelpiece before heading in that direction. He uses his shoulder to force the door open and steps into a large, pale room. The walls are painted dusty grey, a see-through curtain covers the floor-to-ceiling-windows, and from the sloped ceiling, a heavy golden chandelier glimmers in the dim light. But Jon only cares about the king sized bed prodded up against the back wall. When he flings Daenerys onto it, the mattress jumps under her, and countless soft pillows fall onto the floor.

“I knew you could throw me around,” Daenerys says as she prods herself up onto her elbows. He can tell she means to tease, but her innocent eyes are filled with too much anticipation for it to work.

Jon has another sip of the champagne and kicks off his boots as he watches her. There she lies in her large, expensive bed, decorated in designer jewellery and wearing makeup that costs more than Jon earns in a month. It makes him hate her. It makes him want her. He puts the drink onto the bedside table and climbs across the duvet toward her.

As Jon hovers her, Daenerys leans back against the pillows, her small body sinking into the softness of the bedding. There is still a trace of his pre-cum on her cheek. Jon wipes it off with his thumb before sticking it in between her plump lips. “Suck,” he says, and she does, her cheeks closing in around him as she eagerly takes him in. “You’re a naughty girl, aren’t you?”

“I’m a good girl,” Daenerys mumbles around his finger. She peers up at him from between her long lashes.

“Mhm, that’s what you like people to think, isn’t it?” Jon says, dragging his wet thumb across her lips until they’re covered in a thin layer of drool. “You dress nice, and talk nice, and live nice,” he says, his thumb slipping over her chin, down her neck, feeling her breathe, “but what you really want,” his fingers spread, close around her throat, sink into her pale skin as her pulse speeds up, “is to be fucked until you’re sore.” Jon’s hand tightens around her neck.

Daenerys lips part in a quiet moan, and her eyes flutter shut as she rolls her head back, offering him more of her neck. “Fuck, Jon,” she whispers, “ _fuck._ ”

“Say it,” Jon growls in her ear, his teeth dragging at her lobe, his tongue wrestling her pearl earring aside. His other hand slips beneath her dress. Her juices have soaked her underwear. The flimsy lace is rolled up between her labia, barely covering her hardened clit. He drags the fabric aside and easily pushes a finger into her tightness. “Say it.”

“ _Yes,_ ” Daenerys whimpers, and her nails find their way to his back, pull at his tee, drag across his shoulder blades.

“Yes what,” Jon asks. His nose is pressed to her soft cheek. He can taste her in her ragged breathing. He squeezes down harder as he enters her with a second finger, his palm drenched in her juices.

“I want-” Daenerys gasps in air. Her cheeks have gone bright pink. Jon loves the colour on her. “I want-” she starts again, her eyes peeking through her lashes as she watches him, “I want you to fuck me sore.”

Jon pulls out of her cunt, making Daenerys whine in frustration. She rocks up to meet his hand, but he settles across her hips, forcing her back down into the duvet. When he lets go of her neck, she draws in a needed breath. The sound from her lips is ragged. But he doesn’t give her time to compose herself; his fingers dig into the neckline of her dress, and with a grunt he rips the fabric apart. It tears down the middle.

Daenerys gasps in surprise. “Jon!” she says, her big eyes watching him in shock. Her voice is still but a whisper, her mouth hanging open as she fills her lungs with air. “That’s my favourite dress!”

“It looks good on you,” Jon teases, pushing the torn fabric aside as his eyes ravish her exposed body. She’s wearing a white lace bra. Her pink, hard nipples are visible through the sheer fabric. He pulls it down and grabs her breasts, trapping her buds between his fingertips as he gives them a tug. She groans under his touch. “When I’m done with you,” he says, peering down at her with a wry smile, holding her trembling gaze, “your bed is going to be so soaked in your juices that you’ll never forget I was here.”

Daenerys takes a sharp breath in through her nose. Her legs draw together as her cunt throbs at his words. She doesn’t say anything, but her eyes tell it all: _fuck me breathless._ It makes him chuckle.

Jon reaches over and grabs the flute of champagne off the table and has another sip. Then, with a dirty glimpse to his eyes, he turns the glass upside down and pours the rest of the champagne over Daenerys warm body. She whines in surprise and wriggles as the bubbly, cool liquid cascaded down her naked skin, sinking into her navel, brushing past her cunt.

“You dirty man,” she whispers.

“You’ve seen nothing yet,” Jon growls and throws the glass aside. As it shatters on the floor, he dips his head in between her breasts and licks the champagne from her cleavage. It fizzles against his lips, and Daenerys rocks to his mouth, her fingers slipping through his hair.

Like her mouth, Daenerys’ skin has a sweet scent to it. Through the sparkling flavour of zesty orange, Jon can taste her rose perfume and body cream. He imagines her lathering herself in moisturiser every night, smoothing her pale skin to perfection. The thought of her naked and slick on her bed makes his cock throb. He quickly sinks his head down over her stomach as he drinks the champagne from her navel.

Jon takes his time to explore every inch of Daenerys’ warm body. As she wriggles beneath him, her nails scratching his head, tugging at his hair, urging him on, he pecks and licks and kisses his way past her navel, over the bump of her stomach, in between her warm legs. Her thighs are sweaty and glistening with her juices. When he presses his nose to her wet pants, the scent of champagne is long gone and instead replaced with the pure, raw smell of sex.

“Oh Jon,” Daenerys moans, and her hands drag at his curly locks, “oh _please._ ”

“You know the game by now,” Jon says and smacks her thighs. The skin wobbles and turns pink. “If you want something, you have to ask for it.”

Daenerys whimpers. “It’s embarrassing,” she says, “begging.”

“Good,” Jon replies, and he smacks her thighs again, making her legs bend. “Come on, love - tell me what you want.”

Daenerys struggles for a moment longer, her arms stretched, her fingers lost in Jon’s curls. Then, she peers down at him, and she pants: “Oh, please, Jon, please lick me,” and her voice is trembling with such need that Jon can only comply.

Jon grabs a strong hold of her legs, his fingers digging into her thighs, and he dips his head back to her cunt, burying his nose and tongue into her wetness. The lace is in his mouth. His tongue slips around the fabric. He sucks at her labia, kisses them, glides his tongue around as his beard gets wet with her juices. The scent of her is all around him. As her thighs close in on his face, he drags her legs over his shoulders and buries himself deeper into her.

Daenerys’ hands have left his hair. She’s holding onto the headboard behind her as Jon eats her out. Her chest rises with her rapid breathing. When she tries to speak, all that comes out is his name: “Oh, Jon, fuck, _Jon!_ ”

Jon tears her pants aside with his tongue, gaining better access to her clit. The nub is hard, and when he flickers his tongue across it, Daenerys’ body jolts with pleasure. He closes his lips around it and gives it a gentle suck as he sticks a finger into her tight cunt. “You’re dripping,” he growls to her sex, a second finger easily slipping inside of her, “I knew you were a dirty girl.”

“I just need to be fucked,” Daenerys replies in a choked moan, her knuckles growing white against the metal of the headboard.

“Yes you do,” Jon growls and rubs her clit with his thumb, a third finger sinking into her. She tightens around him, her inners sucking him further inside. “But not just fucked. You need to be held down and taken, don’t you?”

“Yes,” Daenerys hisses, her voice heavy with lust.

“You need to be used until you come on my cock.”

“Oh, fuck,” Daenerys sobs, “yes, Jon, _please!"_

“You,” Jon withdraws his hand, the sticky liquid snapping between his fingers as he takes a hold of his throbbing cock and gives it a jerk. “Need,” he watches her from between her legs - her heaving breasts, her stomach glistening with champagne, her cunt trembling at his face. “Me.” He kisses his way across her body to her mouth and drowns her in the taste of her. Her tongue lazily battles with his, but soon succumbs to his dominance as he lets her sense herself on his lips, his teeth, his mouth.

Daenerys is shivering and squirming beneath him. When he lets her break for air, she stares up at him with her violet eyes wet with need and begs: “Please just take me, Jon, I can’t wait any longer.”

“Impatient,” Jon smirks, but he shrugs a bit more out of his jeans as he kneels between her legs. “Condom?”

For a moment, Daenerys looks like she’s going to tell him not to bother. But then she points to the bedside table. “In the drawer,” she says.

Jon reaches over and pulls the package out. His hand brushes against a bottle of lube. He throws it next to them for good measure before ripping the condom open. As he rolls it down over his hard cock, he watches her intensely. His breathing is heavy. His heart is beating quickly in his chest. The way Daenerys peers back at him doesn’t help; flushed, and weak, and ready. He imagines dropping by to fuck her every day in a new position, wrecking her body into a mess of pleasure. The thought alone makes him growl. Unable to wait any longer, he grabs a hold of her thick thighs, drags her legs up to rest on his hips, and then sinks around her knickers into her sopping cunt in one hard thrust.

As Jon’s thick cock stretches her out, Daenerys’ mouth falls open in a silent cry. She arches her back and her hands grab onto his sturdy shoulders for support. “Ooh!” she moans, her head lolling back into the pillows.

Jon can feel her nails push through the fabric of his tee into his skin. He hisses from the pain. He wants more of it. “Fuck, you’re tight,” he grunts. Daenerys’ cunt clasps in around him, her inners milks his cock. It is like fucking her mouth, only wetter, tighter, deeper, _better._ He grasps a hold of her small waist as he slams into her again, his deep thrust making the bed beneath them rock.

“Oh God,” Daenerys breathes, “oh _God!_ ” Her eyes are closed.

Jon leans in over her as he pats her cheek. “Look at me,” he says, thrusting into her again, earning a moan. “ _Look at me!"_

Daenerys whimpers, but pries her eyes open. Through her lashes, he can see how her gaze is wet. “Oh God,” she says again, her voice trembling as her nails drag across his nape, “oh fuck, Jon, that feels _so good._ ”

Jon smirks, and he pats her cheek again, this time a bit harder. “Dirty girl,” he grunts, “you’ve just been sitting around all day waiting for me to fuck you, haven’t you?”

“Yes,” Daenerys admits, the embarrassment thick in her voice. She pushes her legs more around him, her heels digging into his back as she tries to make him sink deeper into her. When he pauses, his cockhead pulled to her entrance, she pleads: “Don’t stop now!”

“All those dirty messages,” Jon continues, his voice husky, “did you touch yourself to them?”

“Yes,” Daenerys admits again. She is raising her cunt, trying to fuck herself on his hard cock, but Jon won’t let her - he pulls away, nestling between her dripping labia, his member slick. It makes her whimper in frustration.

“Did you touch yourself this morning?”

“ _Yes._ ” Daenerys’ voice is but a whine. She gasps and rolls her hips, desperately trying to have him fill her again, and her needy jerks makes Jon’s cock throb.

Jon’s hand sinks back around her neck, his fingers forcing her breathing to slow down, and he looks into her eyes as he growls: “You dirty, dirty girl,” before slamming back into her. His cock penetrates her deeply, making her body open for him, causing her to sink further into the bed.

Daenerys gasps as she is taken - hardly, quickly, roughly, the top of her head brushing against the headboard, her body completely out of control. She can’t even breathe; the air grows hot in her open mouth, and her lungs beg for relief. Still, the sensation makes her more wet, and Jon can feel how her cunt throbs and slickens around his cock, the feeling of being out of control pushing her toward the edge.

As Daenerys’ eyes roll back, Jon lets go of her throat and claims her mouth in a kiss. Her desperate breathing makes their kiss hotter, and Daenerys eagerly welcomes Jon’s tongue into her mouth, urging him to have all of her. “Oh Jon, oh Jon,” she moans, his name rolling off her tongue like a prayer, “oh _Jon!_ ”

Jon’s cock throbs inside of her. Every hard thrust makes her achy and sore. Still her legs draw him closer, and her body pushes to his, wordlessly begging him to fuck her more. She is on edge. When Jon’s hand sinks to her cunt and starts playing with her clit, she looks like she’s about to come - her head rolls back, her eyes shut, and her lips part as she whines:

“Oh fuck!” - but as her thighs tremble and her hands wrestle into the pillows for support, Jon pulls out and leaves her gasping in surprise. The shocked look on her face is enough to make him chuckle.

“You thought I’d let you come already?” Jon asks, his own voice slightly breathless. His muscles have hardened under his shirt, and his body feels slick with sweat. Every part of him is begging to just sink back into Daenerys and fuck her senseless, making himself come in her cunt over and over again. But, he reminds himself as he looks down her body, there is more pleasure to be had. “Don’t be silly.”

“Jon?” Daenerys says perplexed. “Did I do something wrong?” Her knees pull together as she tightens her muscles, her wet cunt trembling with need. Jon can see a spot on the duvet from where her juices have soaked through the bedding. The smell of sex makes his mouth water.

Without a word, Jon pulls his shirt over his head and throws it aside, revealing his firm, tattooed body. As he wrestles out of his jeans, he can feel Daenerys’ eyes on him, her gaze eating up every detail. “You’re good, love,” Jon replies, smirking back at her as he strips. When he climbs back over her, he is naked and hard. “I’m just not done with you.”

“I didn’t know you were tattooed,” Daenerys says, shyly dragging her fingertips down his arms. There are wolves and ravens, and mountains and moons all wrapped into one. From his collarbone, a direwolf growls back at her.

“Do you mind?” Jon asks.

Daenerys shakes her head and bites her lower lip. “I like it,” she says, her voice tense with excitement. “They make you look like a _bad guy._ ”

Jon chuckles and brushes her lips with his thumb. “Bad guy, huh?” he says. “You like a bad guy, love?” When she nods, he places a soft kiss to her lips and whispers: “Good.” Then, without pause, he grabs her by the waist and flips her over, easily pushing her face-first into the bed. Her ass jiggles in the air. He lands a hard slap on the buttocks and watches them blush.

“Oh God!” Daenerys gasps. Her voice is muffled by the pillows. Jon drags the torn dress off of her and throws it aside before leaning down to kiss her back. Her spine arches to meet his touches. He licks it all the way to her ass.

Between her cheeks, Daenerys’ skin is pink and soft. Jon breathes hotly against her buttocks as he teases her with kisses around the edge of her asshole. Her soaked pants still sit tight across it. When he wrestles them down, he can hear the wet sound as the fabric slips free of her fucked cunt. The lace is so rolled up that he can barely drag it off her body.

“Looks like I had you good,” Jon teases.

Daenerys replies by rubbing herself down onto the duvet, her lips gasping wordlessly to the pillows.

“Needy girl,” Jon growls and spanks her ass again. Her fat cheeks wobble temptingly, making him sink his fingertips deep into her skin as he forces her buttocks apart. He dips his head between her legs. He stretches out his tongue. In a slow, wet movement, he drags it from the edge of her cunt to the rim of her asshole, slickening her crack with her own juices.

“Fuck,” Daenerys growls. “Do that again.”

Jon slaps her arse hard, earning a yelp from her. He clicks his tongue. “You can ask nicely.”

Daenerys rolls her head to the side, gasping in air as she frees her face from the constraint of the pillows. “Please,” she says as she peers down at him, “please do that again, Jon, _please._ ”

“That’s my girl,” Jon says, and he sinks his tongue back to her cunt and drags it to her asshole, his cock dripping precum as Daenerys’ deep moans fill the room. Something about rimming this beautiful rich woman is making him rock hard. She is at his mercy, completely weak and helpless to his desires - and she wants him to do his worst. The thought makes Jon’s chest clench with need. As he wettens the shape of her puckered asshole, he feels his member jerk between his legs.

“Oh God,” Daenerys whispers. Her plump lips are parted, and her eyes are still staring down at him, though her gaze seems hazy. She is not focusing on anything in particular, her skin shivering with pleasure. “Fuck, Jon, I’ve never been licked there before.”

“You need better company,” Jon says surprised, but it makes him all the more eager to reduce her to a sobbing, moaning mess. He spreads her cheeks further as he licks his way around the rim, rolling and dragging his tongue in between every crease of her arse. He wants to touch every inch of her. His determination makes Daenerys whine with need.

She scoots her ass up into the air as she pushes back against him, urging him to lick her more. Jon takes a strong hold of her buttocks as he complies; he nuzzles his nose tight to her skin, filling his lungs with the scent of her sweat and perfume and body wash, and then dips his tongue into her asshole. Her muscles are weak to his penetration; they suckle his tongue inside, allowing him to rim her edge, taste her on his lips. He roughly kisses and licks and fucks her with his mouth and tongue, eating her out as she moans and gasps, her face bright red.

“I can tell you like it,” Jon says, pushing a hand between her legs to her cunt. He brushes her hard nub. Juices flicker through the air. “You really _are_ going to soak the bed.”

Daenerys whimpers and claws at the duvet. “Please just fuck me,” she begs, “I can’t- I can’t wait any longer, Jon.” Her voice is a pant.

Jon replies by sinking his thumb into her asshole. As Daenerys gasps in surprise, he leans in over her body, his shadow falling across her small frame. “Where do you want me to fuck you?” he asks as he pushes his thumb deeper into her. He can feel her clench around him. Her wet cunt is dripping down her thighs. “Where?”

“Wherever,” Daenerys replies, and her words make Jon’s cock jerk. She rolls her head to the other side, blowing silver strands of hair out of her face as she sends him a pleading look. “Wherever you want, Jon, just do it. I need you.”

Jon takes in a sharp breath. With her small back arched and her arse hovering in the air, her cunt soaked and her cheeks red, Daenerys is a sight to behold. He rolls the condom off his cock and throws it aside, ripping open a new one and rolling it on. It is difficult - he throbs and jerks between his hands, his body begging for release. “Are you sure?” he asks, grabbing the bottle of lube and popping it open as he wets his fingers. When he sinks one back into her ass, it slips with more ease. Daenerys moans at his touch. “It’ll be a tight fit.”

“Fuck, I hope so,” Daenerys whispers.

Jon chuckles, and he holds onto her arse as he starts fucking her with one, then two fingers, lubricating her small hole. “You rich women with your fancy clothes and fancy jewellery,” he hisses, pushing down onto her as he spreads her open. Daenerys lets go of a choked moan. Her eyes are rolling behind her closed lids. “You like to act so mighty, but you’re just as dirty as the rest of us, aren’t you?” He spanks her buttocks. The slap echoes in the room and makes Daenerys whine.

“Yes,” she breathes, “yes.”

“Do you like being used by me?” Jon asks, adding a third finger to her hole. She tightens around him. He makes her take him. “Hmm? Do you like the idea of me fucking you in every room, making a mess of your nice place?”

“Fuck,” Daenerys whispers. The air between them is growing hotter. Sweat slickens her skin. Jon can barely tell what is lube and what’s her juices - he just knows that she’s wet and ready. “Fuck, yes, Jon, _yes._ ”

“Good,” Jon grunts, and he pulls his fingers out as he positions himself between her buttocks. His cockhead pushes to her asshole. His fingers dig into her waist. “Ready?” he asks, and just as her lips part, he sinks into her, pressing her open with the thickness of his cock.

Daenerys gasps. Her back arches even more, the front of her body deeply embedded in the duvet whilst her arse is held high, meeting Jon’s shallow thrusts. “Fuck!” she cries, but her voice isn’t tinted with pain - it’s heavy with lust. “ _Fuck!"_

Jon grits his teeth together as Daenerys’ warm inners close around him. Her cunt was tight. Her ass is squeezing him hard, her muscles jerking the length of his member as he sinks into her. “God,” he whispers, unable to keep silent as Daenerys’ body welcomes him, drags at him, allows him to sink all the way to the hilt of his cock. “God, love, that’s _good_.”

Below him, Daenerys is a wriggling mess. Her nails scrape at the bedding. Her head lolls around. Her eyes are open, but rolled back, her lips parted in a quiet, breathless whine as Jon starts fucking her behind. Droll is escaping her mouth. It’s making her pillow wet.

Jon is rock hard inside of her. His breath is stuck in his throat. With a steady grab around her small waist, he pulls himself out and sinks back into her, his hips thrusting forward with need. Their skin claps loudly together. It’s a wet, raw sound that fills the room. As Jon works up a steady rhythm, taking Daenerys with hard, deep thrusts, air escapes his mouth in quiet, husky moans. “ _Fuck!_ ”

Daenerys hands slip to the headboard. Her fingers close around the metal as he takes her, her face sinking into the pillow, muffling her moans. Her skin is turning red. Her legs tremble. As Jon slams into her hardly, they buckle under and she falls flat to the bed, his cock still embedded in her. It doesn’t slow him down; no longer needing to hold her up, Jon uses his weight to push her down, his hands grabbing and groping every part of her waist and ass and thighs that he can reach as he rubs himself deep inside her ass.

“You feel so good,” he praises her, his words rolling hotly across her spine as he leans down to kiss her skin. “You feel so good.”

Daenerys raises her head and draws in a deep breath of air. Her makeup is running down her face. She whimpers at Jon’s every move. “Oh Jon,” she whispers, “please - touch me. _Please touch me,_ ” she begs.

Jon lays down atop of her, his weight trapping her to the bed, and he sinks one hand below her wriggling, sweaty frame as he reaches for her cunt. His fingers sink between her labia. They brush to her hardened clit. A jolt goes through Daenerys body - immediately, his fingers are soaked.

“Yes,” she hisses, her grip on the headboard tightening. Her knuckles are growing white. “Harder, Jon, _harder!_ ”

Jon fucks her harder, deeper, quicker. His cock pumps inside her tight hole as he claims her body. Daenerys whimpering moans spur him on, and his fingers on her clit work in smaller and smaller circles, prolonging her pleasure as he takes her. He is close. So is she. He can feel it in her trembling skin, taste it on her lips as he wrestles her head to the side to claim them. Her breath can barely keep up. Her body is growing sore.

As Jon’s thumb strokes her clit just right, Daenerys moans loudly. The sound escapes her throat like a long, deep purr. He chuckles: “You’re so loud,” and to his surprise Daenerys replies:

“Then shut me up.”

Jon complies; he kisses her one last time before pressing his free hand over her lips, trapping all sounds inside her mouth. Her hard breathing makes his palm sweaty, and her tongue drags across his fingers, tasting herself and lube and his cock on him. Her nostrils flare for air. He keeps her down as he rocks himself inside of her.

As Daenerys cunt tightens at his fingers, he knows she’s coming. It’s like a jerk goes through her body - as he keeps pounding her ass, her sex tightens up, and he can feel her clit trembling to his fingers as the first wave of an orgasm rolls across her skin. It’s like a new pulse jitters through her every time he sinks into her; Daenerys wriggles growls and arches and whimpers below him, but she remains in place, her mouth securely covered, her cunt coming on his fingers again and again.

Jon’s hand is soaked. His cock is throbbing. As he’s certain Daenerys has rocked herself one last time to his palm, he pulls both his hands back and grabs her by the waist as he fucks her with more fury. She is weak, and shivering, and moaning below him. But she lets him take her as hardly as he needs until his balls tighten and his cock throbs deep inside of her.

Jon growls and bites down on Daenerys’ shoulder as he comes. He feels his cum filling the condom until he’s sure it must be overflowing. His heart is beating in his throat. Sweat slippers down his forehead. By the time he pulls out of Daenerys, she whimpers as his half hard cock leaves her, his weight lifting off her body.

In the heated afterglow of sex, Jon settles on the edge of the bed and watches Daenerys as he rolls of the condom. She is quiet, her face partially hidden by her silver hair, and he wonders what she thinks and how she feels. He grabs some tissues from the box on her nightstand and folds the used condom up in it, puts it aside, and climbs back next to her, brushing her hair out of her face as he surveys her.

Daenerys looks up at her, a small smile on her lips. “Hey,” she says.

Jon chuckles. “Hey,” he says, and he lays down next to her. His fingertips caress her soft hair and shoulder, fiddle with the strap of her bra still loosely hanging at her breasts, pinch at her pink buttocks.

Daenerys giggles and presses her nose to his neck. “Don’t tease me,” she says, “I’m very sore.”

“But good?” Jon asks, lazily dragging his fingers back up her back and around her ear. He flickers the pearl earring. It glimmers in the dim light falling through the curtains.

“Very good,” Daenerys purrs. She traces his tattoos with her nails, gently feeling each of them as she explores his body for the first time. Jon finds himself tightening his muscles at her touch. “I’ve never been fucked like that before.”

“I mean what I said,” Jon says. He props himself up on his elbow as he looks into her eyes. “I’d fuck you in every room, every day of the week. You’re really hot.”

Daenerys blushes. For a moment, Jon thinks she’s going to reject him, but then she whispers: “I’d love that,” and she sends him a shy look.

Jon leans in and kisses her, but in comparison to before, it’s a soft, gentle one. Their lips move slowly, their tongues wrap together, explore each other’s mouth. By the time Jon pulls back, he can feel his cock throb again. “Ah, fuck,” he mutters, glancing down, “you’re already making me horny.”

Daenerys laughs and sits up as she grabs a hold of his cock. He hardens a bit in her hand. “How about I fix us another drink,” she says, rolling her thumb around his cockhead, “and then we take it from there?”

“In a glass or straight on your body?” Jon asks, making Daenerys’ face even more red.

“Let’s start with a glass,” she says, and she slippers off the bed. Her naked body jiggles as she walks to the door and pulls a fluffy white robe off the hook on its back. Jon is sad to see it covering her up, but he sends her a small smile as she turns to face him. “Any preference?”

Jon shrugs. “Anything but champagne. Mind if I smoke?”

“Go ahead.”

As Daenerys heads to the kitchen, Jon stands up and grabs his pack of cigarettes from his jeans. He lights a smoke and slowly walks around the room, watching all the details he didn’t care to look at before - the glass make-up desk heavy with perfume bottles, the walk-in wardrobe full of red-soled shoes and silk dresses, and the framed photographs on the wall. He lingers at a photo of Daenerys as a young girl, smiling with missing front teeth. It makes him chuckle.

“Nice photos,” he shouts, “you should put them on Tinder.”

Daenerys’ voice comes from far away: “You better not be looking at my childhood ones!”

“Of course not!” Jon keeps walking past the photographs, watching as Daenerys ages - she’s on a horse, then she’s at a birthday party, then she turns 21 with balloons and confetti falling around her. The latest one is of her hugging a man. She smiles at the viewer whilst the man looks at her with proud eyes. Something about him looks familiar to Jon. He pauses at the photograph as he has a drag of his smoke. Then, his heart sinks in his chest. “Fuck.”

“Are you okay?” Daenerys enters the room with two glasses of wine. She watches Jon’s pale face as she approaches, her gaze flickering between him and the photo. “What’s wrong?”

“Please tell me you’re not fucking this guy,” Jon says and stabs a shaking finger at the photograph.

“What, no!” Daenerys says, her face red with horror. “Of course not! Why would you ask that?”

“Because that’s my dad,” Jon says, sending her a hesitant look. The air between them has changed. The heat from earlier has been replaced with something else - something tense. He already knows the answer before he asks, but he still says: “How do you know Rhaegar?”

Daenerys swallows. Her eyes are big and round, and her hands shiver around the wine glasses. She looks like she could drop them any second. “Well,” Daenerys says, and she clears her throat and takes in a deep breath, “he is my brother.”

“Aunt Dany,” Jon says in amazement, smoke seeping from his lips.

“Nephew Jon,” she replies, and she brushes past him to put the drinks down onto the makeup desk. She pauses with her back turned on him. He can see her shoulders shiver. “So you’re the guy who turned his back on the family.”

“Riches don’t suit me.”

“Your whole attitude suddenly makes sense.” Daenerys turns to him, her arms folded. He expected her face to be red with anger. Instead, she looks flustered with embarrassment. “All your negativity toward money and riches - you could have all of this, but you don’t want it.”

“I like to make it on my own,” Jon explains, before adding in a mumble: “But looks like I walked right back to the Targaryen family after all.” He’s suddenly painfully aware of how naked he is before her. He tries to determine whether it’d be more awkward to remain or to get dressed. He decides to linger, the smoke growing to ashes between his fingers. “Well,” he says after a pause, his mind bustling with noise, and he looks at Daenerys and shrugs, “guess my aunt is a dirty girl.”

“Jon!” Daenerys blushes, but she looks amused - something in her eyes twinkle. Without anything to do with her hands, she does the only thing she can - grabs one of the wine glasses and empties it in three big gulps. When she slams it back down onto the table, the red liquid seeps from her lips. She wipes it off in the back of her hand as she watches him. “I can’t believe you-” She pauses, then grabs the other glass and empties it.

Jon watches her bemused. He drops his smoke into the now empty wine glass. It dies with a hiss against the drops of alcohol. “I what?” he asks, and he feels a bit cocky as he eyes her flustered face. “Made you suck my cock, licked your cunt, fucked your ass? Don’t say you didn’t like it.”

“I didn’t know,” Daenerys whispers, and she rubs her cheeks. He can tell her head is buzzing too. Her gaze falls to his cock as she mumbles: “I just didn’t know.”

For a moment, they’re both silent. The sun outside is setting. The room is bathed in the last red rays of light. If it wasn’t for the situation, Jon thinks, it could be almost romantic.

“Love,” Jon finally says, and Daenerys’ violet eyes snap from his cock to his face. She looks guilty - like she’s been caught doing something bad. “If you want me to go, I will.”

Daenerys suckles on her lower lip. Her hands fall from her face to her front. She nervously twists her fingers together. “And if I don’t?” she asks quietly. “If I ask you to stay?”

Jon reaches over and cups her chin. He turns her face up, looking into her eyes as he steps closer. It’s weird, he thinks, how all the noise in his head seems to settle as she presses up against her body, as his warm breath slippers across her burning skin. “If you ask me to stay,” he says, and his voice is husky, “then I will do exactly what we planned.”

“You’ll fuck me?” Daenerys asks, her voice low.

“In every room,” Jon says, “hell, I’ll take you on the balcony if you want me to. That was some naughty sex-”

“It was,” Daenerys blushes.

“-and it was the best I’ve had in years.”

Daenerys seems to pause. Then, her arms wrap around Jon’s neck, and she tip-toes to meet his lips. She whispers: “Jon?”

“Mhm?” Jon mumbles, his eyes closing as he leans in, tastes her breath, smells the wine and sex lingering on her skin.

“Will you punish me for being a dirty aunt?”

Jon’s cock jerks. He pushes his nose to hers and places a wet, sloppy kiss on her lips. As Daenerys groans into his mouth, he growls: “I’ll fuck you like the horny girl you are.” From the way Daenerys gasps and presses to his cock, he gathers it’s exactly what she had in mind. So he pulls her up by the buttocks, turns them around, and walks her off to the bathroom. After all - to make her dirty, he first has to clean her up.

**Author's Note:**

> After finishing my recent multi-chapter fic (Desirable Business, updating weekly if anyone's interested!) I just needed to do something fun, quick, and dirty. Hopefully someone out there likes that kind of thing? I don't think I've ever done a more rough Jon with a quite submissive Daenerys, but there's a first for everything I suppose!
> 
> Thank you to DragonandDirewolf for always supplying the dirty artwork. Now that's something worth looking at on a lonely night!
> 
> As always, your comments are much appreciated!


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